


Amber on his lips, Amber in his eyes.

by Thirium_Powered



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, He's so nervous bless his heart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 01:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirium_Powered/pseuds/Thirium_Powered
Summary: Little baby ficlet about first times, kissing, nerves and the little things in between.





	Amber on his lips, Amber in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> The oxford comma is my lover.

Sticky sweet molasses on his lips from the pastries earlier, he leans in and-

Gasps. 

“I’m so sorry Crowley, I don’t know what came over me, I…”

Crowley stands silenced, tries to grasp the event that almost occurred, then hums in sudden understanding. (Rushes of emotion, adrenaline kicking in.)

Slowly, he raises a hand to his angels cheek, attempting but failing to conceal the shaking;

the nerves, the giddy, the excitement only a fool in love could experience. (Raises hellfire, conquers all.)

His hand gently caresses the others cheek, moving, then resting upon his jawline.

“Aziraphale…” He begins, “How long? Have you known, I mean.” (I’m not ready, please don’t rush me.)

And he pauses. And She watches.

“I suppose since the very moment I laid eyes on you, but I didn’t realise it until… the books. You saved them, just for me.” 

“Laid eyes on me as a serpent, or as I am now?” (Are jokes attractive? Will he laugh?)

Aziraphale curls his lips upward, mouth shut to prevent himself from laughing at such a stupid question. 

Crowley stares. (Well?)

“Don’t be daft.”

“Is that a yes?”

“No.” (Shit.)

Crowley lowers his hand.

“Would you like me if I were a serpent now?” He rushes. (Please love all of me, the ugly and all.)

“Now? Probably.” Aziraphale replies. 

“Even if I were all slimy and disgusting?” 

“Snakes aren't slimy, but yes, i'd still love you. Are you stalling? I can tell you’re stalling."

“What? No! I am absolutely not stalling.” (I am, I am, I am.)

Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.

“Then what are you waiting for?” He asks, pulling Crowley in and clumsily pushing his lips onto the others. 

People say you’re meant to see fireworks. He doesn’t. It feels like falling all over again; the fear, the freedom, seething eyes no longer on you. (She still watches, unwilling to interfere with ineffability.)

And it barely lasts more than a singular moment, but to them, it seems to go on for eternity.

It was Crowley who pulled away first. And it was Aziraphale who spoke first.

“Was it any good? I know it sounds ridiculous, being around for several millennia, but I’ve actually never done this before.” 

“Angel…” (Ridiculous indeed.)

And he pulls him in for seconds.

And he tastes like syrup.

**Author's Note:**

> Who knows, I might add more if I feel up to it.  
> I'd quite like to, personally.  
> My motivation has other plans.


End file.
